The Mice Will Play. NOT THE CATS. The MICE. (An openly passive aggressive wine review)

So hypothetically speaking….
If I had been left Pet-Sitting while somebody was away on vacation, basking in the sunshine, splashing around in the ocean waves, frolicking about like a floozy (no doubt) through the streets of some adorable little beach town, somewhere just far enough away that she probably can’t even remember my name, let alone hear the sound of my voice echoing through the night, as I plead desperately with our combined 367 cats…

SHUT UP!!!! Seriously?? Oh MY GOD! GO. TO. SLEEP!!

She would (and did) definitely have done well, if not redeemed herself entirely, by leaving me in the hands of my new lover while she is away.

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I had never tried it before, but I will try it again and again and again. Because LaVespa is awesome.
And I’m not just saying that because of it’s name or because the price tag falls under the $20 mark.
And I’m not saying that because it knocks me out enough that I barely hear the howling and scuffling and skidding and hairball hurling, and scrapping and patty-caking and whatever else it is these freakish hellions are doing while I am trying so desperately to sleep.

But also because

it tastes really good.

Wine aficionados may beg differ. I don’t know and I don’t care.

I don’t actually even know how these things work. They sniff, they swirl, they inspect the legs and go on about fruity, smoky, woody somethings and notes and what-have-yous.

I open. I smell. I sip. I like.

Or, I hate it and I spit it out.

Or… I hate it and drink it anyway because honestly,

are lively sharp notes of overripe fruit and battery acid with a crisp sauerkrautish finish, (Wonderful with poached chicken, or paired with Chevre) not worth the esophagus burn if it means a sudden burst of unwarranted self-confidence, an impromptu dance party with the dogs, and sleeping through your pain, fears, and heartbreak, even if only for just one night?

But the bonus here is, that La Vespa is none of those things. La Vespa is a dry, full-bodied and fruity red with a complex and intense nose. I taste blackberry or currants or cherry even, and something woody and almost like a soft pipe tobacco. On the palate, it has fleshy tannins, and a broad texture.

Don’t believe me? even ask

BANDOL20 – ” Fruité, notes de cassis. Vin à l’attaque fruitée avec des tanins assez gouleyants. Pas très structuré mais d’une bonne générosité. Quelques notes de mie de pain. La finale est sur le fruit avec juste un peu de bois. ”

or

Larseman – “Mycket bättre än vad jag minns förra gången. Kryddig (lagerblad, vitpeppar?) doft, körsbärskärnor, lite mandel, ganska mycket fat (läder) utan att vara påträngande. Medelfyllig, fina tanniner, medelstram, bra längd med ett syrligt slut.”

Buy it. Drink it. Love it.

Or buy it for me. I’ll drink it and (subsequently) love you.

Speaking of the future kitchen mats/fur bikinis that I affectionately refer to as “the cats”, I hate their guts. Each and every single one of their tennis racket & Violin string making guts.

And if what’s-her-name doesn’t come home soon, if ever, I’m going to sell them all for wine money.

So if any of you see the drunken carefree sea-tart on the beach this week, feel free to pass that message on. And while you’re at it. Tell her that I am also going to paint her car pink with sparkles.
And then I’m going to empty and rent out her closet.

To myself.

And I’m going to pay myself with cats.

Which I will then sell. For more wine money.

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